"I found the hat just here, sir," said the man, bending down and pointing to a clump of blind-nettle. "You can see where it was lying, sir." Mr. St. Clive and Ralph stopped and examined the place. It was clear that something resembling a struggle had taken place here, for the tall grass was trampled and beaten flat, and, in some places, the earth itself had been cut up, as though by the heels of boots. Mr. St. Clive felt very grave--if ever anything seemed to tell of a tragedy, this did--and he said to Ralph-- "My poor boy, I must own that there seems every appearance of foul play here. We shall have to see the police. You are quite sure that your father told you nothing, however unimportant it may seem, which might give us an inkling of where he was going?" "He said nothing, sir," answered Ralph sadly. "It is all a mystery to me. But now we are here we may as well learn all that we can." "What more can we learn, Ralph?" asked Mr. St. Clive. "This silent spot will not speak and tell us what happened." "Not to you perhaps, but it will speak to me, sir. I have been brought up on the plains, remember, and grass and trees may tell me more than they can tell to you. First, sir, is this a direct road to anywhere? I mean, is it a general thoroughfare?" Mr. St. Clive shook his head. "No, Ralph. It is a rarely frequented spot. The village people are half afraid of it. It is a short cut from Stow Ormond to Great Stow, and it would argue that your father must have been familiar with the place for him to have taken it." "Where else besides Great Stow does it lead to, sir?" "Why, my lad, to nowhere in particular. It takes you out the other side of Stow Common, and, of course, from there you can go where you will." Ralph nodded. "So that we may suppose that any one crossing here would be going to Great Stow?" "Yes. It would save him going all round through Little Stow." "Very well, sir. Now we will go to the side of the wood nearest to the inn." "Why?" asked Mr. St. Clive in surprise. "Because I want to know whether my father crossed this place in going from the inn; and if so, I want to try and see where he went to. There is a lot to learn here, sir; but I must start at the beginning." Mr. St. Clive was impressed, though he could not understand what Ralph meant; and so together they went back to that part of the wood which bordered upon Stow Ormond, and here Ralph began to walk to and fro, carefully surveying the grass, until presently he stopped and said-- "My father did cross here. He got over that stile." "How do you know, Ralph?" asked Mr. St. Clive. "I confess that I see nothing to indicate it." "Why, it is quite clear, sir," answered the boy. "See, the ground here is soft and muddy, and this is the imprint of my father's foot here in this soft red clay. That has taken the mark like wax. That is his square-toed boot."